


His Good News

by AcidArrow



Series: Clintasha Week 2016 [5]
Category: Black Widow (Comics), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Clint Barton Feels, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Clint Barton-centric, Clint and Laura Barton's Family, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Fix-It, Natasha Feels, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Surrogacy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 10:51:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6563338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcidArrow/pseuds/AcidArrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint has some good news for Natasha... once he can believe it himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Good News

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leftennant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftennant/gifts).



> A little MCU Fix It, because I love Laura Barton and don't want to erase her, but the whole "Clint has a family" thing kinda bothered me. For Day #5 of Clintasha Week 2016: Domestic.  
> Have a little fluff as an apology for all the angst!!!

Clint held the small piece of white plastic in his hand. His grey-blue eyes were wide, staring in absolute disbelief.  He was barely able to read off the same piece of information he had been staring at for over an hour now, due to how hard his hand was shaking. About an hour ago, Laura had taken the kids out kick a soccer ball around the rec field, in order to give him enough time to process the news.

Quite frankly, he wasn’t sure there would ever be enough time in the _world_ for that.

Natasha would sleep in until at least noon. She had flown the Quinjet back from New York the night before, and her presence had woken him up as she crawled into bed at around five o’clock in the morning. He’d closed his eyes and just dozed lightly in her strong, protective arms as she spooned him from behind for several hours, before dragging himself up and out of bed. The kids would be up soon, and the last thing he wanted was them bursting in excitedly and waking up Auntie Nat when she’d only had a few hours of sleep after an exhausting assignment.

And they would _definitely_ want to wake him up this morning, and even Laura’s gentle shushing and scolding wouldn’t keep them at bay. It was Father’s Day, and this was the first year in the last four that they would actually have a _father_ to celebrate it with.

Last year, the small elementary in the nearby town that both Cooper and Lila attended had been making Father’s Day cards in the days leading up to it, and according to Laura, Lila had cried because she had no one to make a card for and felt like she couldn’t participate. When the teacher had asked for a man they looked up to, they had both chosen their ‘Uncle Clint’. And so in the weeks following, Clint and Laura had spoken, as well as Clint and Natasha, and he had finally taken the kids out to the tire swing one summer afternoon and asked them how they would feel… about calling him ‘dad’.

Which, all warm and fuzzy feelings aside, made things much less awkward around the house. Lila was just turning six, and all of the consonants in the name ‘Clint’ were difficult to say. They’d realized there was going to be a problem several years before, when Lila had said ‘ _Goo’night, Uncaw Clit_ ’ at bedtime and all three adults had simultaneously snorted red wine out of their noses at the kitchen table.

Cooper insisted on making the coffee. He knew his dad liked lots of sugar, but ‘lots of sugar’ to a child and ‘lots of sugar’ to a grown-up were two entirely different things, even to a grown-up like Clint. He had smiled and laughed as he choked out the syrupy concoction, diluting it with pancakes and bacon. Laura milled about the kitchen behind them as the kids gave him cards and talked about their plans for the day. They hadn’t wanted to spend a few hours with their mom, just hanging around outside in the sun.

And Clint felt terrible… he really did. But the Father’s Day gift that Laura had gotten him, well… it was something that was going to take a little time to fully comprehend.

Two little lines. How could so much emotion, so much energy, be churned up by just _two little lines?_

Gentle footsteps descended the wooden staircase, snapping Clint out of his daydream. He was quick to slide the little piece of plastic into the pocket of his worn-through jeans he’d owned for about six years now because he just refused to get rid of them. Too damn comfy.

“Good morning, Mister Celebrity.” Natasha flashed him a genuinely bright smile that told him he didn’t need to ask how the assignment had gone. She sauntered -- because Natasha Romanov didn’t ever simply _walk_ anywhere -- across the family room and into the open concept kitchen, heading for the coffee percolator that she knew would be at least half-full.

“A little surprised to see you on your own. Where are the kids?”

“They, uh, they just went out for a bit. Get some air, y’know?”

“Well, it’s a beautiful day.” Natasha filled a clean mug with coffee, adding a half teaspoon of sugar and no cream, and joining him at the table. “So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to tease it out of you sexually?”

Clint smirked to himself in annoyance, shaking his head. He should know better by now than to try and hide anything from her for longer than a few seconds.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he told her honestly, meeting her eyes. His stomach did a backflip. Rolling itself over. Squeezing itself into a tight, tight ball. For a moment, he wondered if he would throw up. Or faint. Or something equally as unmanly.

“I, ah. I just… Laura had a… she got me this really cool Father’s Day present.”

“From the kids?”

“No.” Clint’s mouth was as dry as cotton wool, and he hadn’t even touched his bong in days. He tried to maintain the eye contact, but her intense and curious stare was too much for him to bear. His gaze dropped like a rock to the tabletop, his hand fumbling awkwardly over the ridge in his jeans pocket.

“No… from her. To us. Both of us.”

Natasha frowned for a moment in confusion, her lips pursing in that beautiful way they did. She had a split down one side of the lower one, no doubt from the recent assignment, along with a small bruise on her right temple. “Both of us…? Clint, what’s going on?”

His draw hand spasmed before he just _committed_ , dipping his fingers in and yanking it out fast as if he were worried he might lose them. He held it out, extending one thick arm toward her whilst still avoiding her gaze. His partner took it, and the moment she recognized what it was -- what it _meant_ \-- her eyes widened incredulously and she made a delicate gasping sound, a noise he had never heard her make before.

At last, he lifted his stormy eyes to her, his lips finally curling into the grin they had been terrified to break into all morning.

“Nat, we’re… we’re gonna have a _baby_.”

Silence. It was so thick and heavy it was deafening, and yet so fragile it could be shattered with a single heartbeat. Natasha was processing. He understood; he’d been doing the same thing all morning. When someone who has spent the majority of their working life killing is suddenly given the opportunity to nurture brand new life as it comes into the world… it’s hard-hitting, and _that’s_ an understatement.

After what felt like an eternity of that same brittle silence, Natasha finally spoke. Her voice was painfully delicate, despite the amount of sarcasm she attempted to drizzle onto it. “Well, I guess we should probably make sure we enjoy the next eight months of decent sleep, then.”

“Really?” was Clint’s response, in an amused puff of an exhale. He was grinning from ear-to-ear now, now that he had finally let it sink in. Now that he had finally _accepted_ it. “A bitchy one-liner? _That’s_ what you want down on record as how you reacted to --”

Natasha’s coffee mug shattered against the floor and her powerful arms were around Clint’s shoulders and neck in the blink of an eye. Her lips sought his out, clashing with them messily and desperately, with an emotion she wasn’t sure she had ever felt before. Clint’s arms caught her in return, lifting her against him as one hand slid into her messy, sleep-tousled hair and he kissed her as if worried that this moment were a dream and either one of them could wake up at any second.

“Nat…” he panted against her lips. She opened her eyes, and saw his eyes were brimming with clear, salty fluid. “Nat, we’re gonna do it. We’re having a _baby_ , we’re having a futzing _baby!_ ”

“You don’t have to keep saying it for it to be true,” she laughed back, wiping away a tear that had escaped his left eye with her thumb. She smiled down at him, and kissed the tip of his nose.

“I love you, Clint Barton.”

“And I love you, you freakishly incredible woman.”

It was at that moment that Laura came to the screen door, and saw the two lovebirds sharing their special moment at the kitchen table. She caught Cooper before he could go bounding into the house and asked him to take his sister and make sure the chickens had been fed this morning, despite the fact that Clint had done it before the kids had even woken up. She could still remember what it had felt like learning that she was going to be a mother for the first time, and she knew that the two of them would likely need a little more time to share this single beautiful instant in their lives.

As the kids sprinted off, she placed a hand over her stomach. Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff had been more than friends to her… they had been family. The family she had never had, the family Hawkeye himself had helped her escape from, once she was placed in witness protection by S.H.I.E.L.D. four years ago. The family her children so desperately needed.

She couldn’t ask for better friends, for better _family_ , than the two of them. And if she could repay them by giving them the child they both so desperately wanted via surrogacy… then it really was the least she could do.

**Author's Note:**

> Like it? Love it? Hate it?  
> TUMBLE WITH ME!!!  
> [~acidarrowguy](http://acidarrowguy.tumblr.com)


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